Nature. Mindfulness. Inspiration. Life.

I know that dandelions are weeds, the scourges of green lawns across America, but my goodness, they certainly do their very best to persuade us of their beauty! Just look at this dandelion in "its furry stage" above, which I captured with my trusty macro lens. Is it just me, or is that one gorgeous flower?

P.S. In the related articles section below, there are some great posts about the environmental and health benefits of dandelions--check them out!

I gobbled up Anne Lamott's book, Help, Thanks, Wow, in one sitting today. It's a short book, yes, but she's just that kind of writer--the kind where you feel like a close friend is speaking to you--a wise, funny, and sarcastic friend who can artfully describe life and all of its messy bits.

My children (ages 7 and 11) asked me if the book would be good for them to read. "Well... there's a lot of dying in it," I said. They shook their heads in unison and went back to their respective books about wizards and fairies.

I recently read Lamott's book Small Victories: Spotting Improbable Moments of Grace and there's a lot of dying in that book, too--pets, dear friends. But somehow, neither book is depressing. They're both funny, largely because they're truthful, and I had those little moments of self-recognition at least once per page. And even though both books deal with difficult experiences, Lamott also writes about "that occasional gorgeous shock." (Her phrase; I love it.)

As a photographer, I'm always looking for "the occasional gorgeous shock." The "shock" part is the best--when I'm looking through the lens, focusing on one thing, and something completely unexpected pops up. That's what happened with this dragonfly, above. I was focusing on the flowers with my macro lens, when I was pleasantly surprised to see that there was a little dragonfly who seemed to be smiling right at me! He posed for one shot before flutter-buzzing away.

One of my ongoing goals in life is to really keep track of the occasional gorgeous shocks--to notice them, fully appreciate them, and be grateful for them. Especially the day-to-day beautiful things that we sometimes take for granted, but then catch ourselves noticing, and almost pinch ourselves, thinking, "WOW! Such beauty, right in front of me!"

When I looked up from the last page of the book today, there was my dog, Delilah, sleeping on the couch beside me, beautiful and serene, completely unaware of just how shockingly gorgeous an animal she is, her chestnut-golden fur catching the sunlight streaming through the window. And I petted her velvety ears, thanking her just for being her gorgeous doggy self.

How 'bout you? What have you seen lately that's shocked you with its sheer gorgeousness? I'd love to hear about it!

I was clicking away at these blooming hydrangeas when I happened to notice an unexpected visitor within my frame--this little dragonfly, who seemed to be smiling right at me! (Doesn't it look that way?) I'm so happy I got this shot, because he flew off to another appointment the very next second!

I've made no secret of the fact that I'm pathetic at traditional meditation--sitting in the lotus position and chanting "Ommmmm" just isn't for me. But I wholeheartedly believe in the benefits of hopping off the "Mental Chatter Rollercoaster" to clear my head, refocus, and appreciate the present moment.

I've often said that macro photography is my way of meditating, allowing me to focus (literally) on the small movements of tiny things and taking me out of my own racing thoughts. But you don't need a camera--even though I highly recommend it--to appreciate any of the following soul-soothing exercises that just might transport you to a meditative state:

1) Visually trace the outlines of a many-petaled flower, like a rose or a peony. Let your eyes slowly wander around the edges of all the petals, backwards and forwards. Breathe in its scent.

2) Follow the small but deliberate actions of aspider spinningits web.

3) Meditate on a flickering flame.

4) Carefullystudy the movements of antshard at work, each one with a purpose.

5) Meditate on falling raindrops. Watch the droplets create ever-expanding circles on the surface of water.

6) Star-gaze.

7) Lie down on a picnic blanket and ponder the changing shapes of clouds.

8) Watch the waves meeting the beach (hopefully, with adorable little sandpipers scurrying back and forth to the rhythm of the tide).

9) Study a cat as it methodically gives itself a bath, massaging its ears with its paws, cleaning its face, tummy, and tail. Along those lines, listen to a cat rhythmically purring while it kneads its paws on a blanket before curling up for a nap. (Cats have relaxation down to a science, don't they?)

10) Watcha fish gracefully swishing around in its tank.

11) Watch the falling leaves.

12) Watch thefalling snow, following the drifting journey of as many individual snowflakes as you can.

I feel calmer already, and no "Ommmms" were uttered.

Your turn: What's your favorite natural scene or creature to study, or a favorite outdoor activity, that puts you into a state of relaxation? Let's hear it in the comments section below--I'm all ears!

While I'm a tad sad (and frankly, surprised!) to see summer winding down so quickly (the leaves here are already starting to turn color), there's something about the start of a new school year, with chatty kids climbing up into big yellow buses, that always feels fresh, exciting, hopeful, and creative.

Perhaps it's all of those sharpened pencils and crisp notebooks, with wide-open pages just waiting to be doodled-up with dazzling ideas. I love a clean slate, don't you? (That must be why I've been tweaking my website--what do you think of the new banner?)

Here are five good reads for the weekend that are all about the creative life at its pure and simple best:

As the weather gets warmer and warmer, the bugs keeping us company are growing in number. My advice: Snap a macro lens on your camera and study them up-close. They just might surprise you. This tiny fly looked plainly green until I looked at it through a macro lens. And then? This guy was ready for the disco!

Here's to a week full of beautiful surprises!

P.S. If you missed Christy King's interview with me at The Simple White Rabbit last Friday, you can click here to read it.

If you have a digital camera (any type, including a smart phone) but don't know how to really use it to its fullest creative potential, registration is now OPEN for my July photography e-course, "How to Take Better Photos of Nature and the World Around You." Even if you have a full-time job, you'll be able to take this online class at your own pace. Click here for details!

Yesterday, I spent most of the morning behind a macro lens, shooting some of the most beautiful things I've ever photographed. And guess what?

They were all weeds.

The things we spray with poison*.

The "ugly ducklings" of the plant world that we pull up by the roots (if we can get to them) before their seeds glide away on the next breeze.

As I looked through the lens at the sunny-yellow dandelions, I was struck by how much they look like "legitimate" flowers--marigolds, zinnias, asters--their little, golden petals reaching out to every corner of the universe. And I'd never noticed those brown curlicues on the outskirts of the flower. Have you ever really studied dandelions this close? I hadn't. But it was a meditation, of sorts.

They reminded me of storybook lions with perfect golden manes.

They reminded me of Ferris wheels.

And frizzy hair-do's.

And Epcot Center.

Which is to say: They took me out of my own hurry-scurry thoughts and let mejust be.

Photography does that for me, especially macro photography. I'm terrible at traditional meditation--my mind in a perpetual whirl, thoughts circling like hawks on the look-out for mice. But I'm at peace behind a camera. It's from behind a camera that I look closer, and deeper, and more truthfully at the world.

My next photography e-course, "How to Take Better Photos of Nature and the World Around You", will run from July 14-July 25, 2014. (Pencil it in--full announcement coming soon!) I hope you'll join me--it's going to be FUN!

*We don't spray our lawn with herbicides and pesticides--we go the natural route with organic fertilizers and lawn treatments. See the related article below called "Keep Off The Grass: Experts Sound Off on the Health Hazards of Lawn Chemicals."

The past week here on the eastern coast of the U.S. has been a smorgasbord of "bad" weather--fog as thick as pea soup (more like mushroom soup, based on the color), chilly rains, snow flurries, ice storms. It's enough to send a person into hibernation. And yet...it's a photographer's dream! When the weather is a drama queen--a diva to put even Mariah Carey to shame--it's the best time to seize the camera and get out there.

Although I often post-process my photographs (one of the things I'll be teaching in my upcoming photography e-course), the colors in the photo above are unaltered. It was the combination of thick morning fog and a gray sky that gave the ruby red leaves their super-saturated glow. And those shapes! I loved how the tiny leaves of the Barberry bush acted like little spoons for the droplets.

On a sunny day, you simply cannot get a view of a magical world turned upside-down inside a raindrop...

This snapshot of a tree reflected in a raindrop reminded me of a snowglobe. It was one of those happy accidents, discovering the inverted image of the tree inside the raindrop as I was clicking away.

Aside from experiencing winter through a camera lens (that's #1 on my list for finding beauty in beastly weather), here are four other ways to enjoy the season:

Experience winter through music. If you celebrate Christmas, carols are the obvious answer "when the weather outside is frightful." And it's hard to be a grump listening to The Nutcracker Suite or Vivaldi's Winter overture from The Four Seasons, this one set to a montage of famous winter paintings.

Experience winter by reading novels set in the season. Here's a fine list of books with a winter setting, although my first recommendation would be The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It contains one of my favorite winter scenes ever, when young Lucy pushes her way through the long fur coats in the wardrobe and is shocked to find the snowy wonderland of Narnia on the other side. Every time it seems like the whole wide world is glittering with ice crystals, my mind drifts back to Narnia.

Experience winter through the eyes of a child. Remember the excitement of a "snow day"? Children are bursting with positive energy in winter. Two mornings ago, after an ice storm during the night--each branch and every blade of grass encased in ice--my daughter ran to me squealing, "Mommy, the whole world is in disguise!" On snowy days, the first things that kids think of are snowmen, snow angels, snow igloos, and snowball fights. Why should there be an age limit attached to any of those things?

So, embrace the season as a child would, or try to see it through an artist's eyes and be inspired to create something beautiful out of it--anything from a snowman to a poem, a wintery song to a photograph of a bright red cardinal in the stark branches, with the backdrop of the crisp, white snow.

Your turn: What's your favorite winter poem, song, novel, or painting? Please share in the Comments section below. If you are reading this post via email subscription or mobile device, click on the title or go to www.JoyfullyGreen.com from a computer to see the comments and leave one of your own. (Don't forget to click the box for subscribing to comments so you can follow the conversation.)

Did you enjoy this post? Get more like it by subscribing! (In righthand column.)

SPECIAL NOTE: Some of the photographs featured in this post are available for sale as high-quality framed or unframed art prints in my web shop at Society6.com/JoyfullyGreen. I hope you'll visit it and treat yourself or somebody you love to a pretty picture! (Added perk: It also keeps this blog advertising-free.)

Tags:
Barberry bush, famous winter paintings, Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost, The Lion, The Nutcracker Suite, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Vivaldi's Four Seasons, Winter-Time by Robert Louis Stevenson

Okay, it's official: I am completely obsessed with taking close-up photos of bugs. Where I once would squeamishly scurry for a tissue to squish them and put them out of my misery, I now run lickety-split for my Olloclip, a handy-dandy little three-in-one lens system that snaps right onto my iPhone. Its macro lens gets me even closer than my cheapo-but-champion macro lens on my Canon Digital Rebel (instead of three inches away, I'm now a mere half-inch away). Of course, with this increased degree of magnification, I have to stay (as Elmer Fudd would put it) "vewy, vewy quiet" and very, very still, or the whole scene goes blurry and is worthless--unless you like the blurry effect, which I sometimes do.

Aside from opening up whole new mini-worlds to me, and aside from helping me to practice mindfulness and mastering the moment, macro photography is teaching me everyday lessons in compassion. I don't want to get too "Dalai Lama" on you, but when I can see super-up-close what a bug is doing just to protect itself (like a roly-poly bug curling up into a tight little ball until it resembles a smooth pebble, or the millipede above, spiraling itself into a sleek, black-and-copper armor), I can't help but feel sorry for it. So, after I'm done with our photo sessions, I transport "the models" outside to the nearest bush.

Even the occasional housefly has gotten into my good graces! Where once I was called "The Fly Ninja" and could fell any fly with one deft strike, I now study their wings like a mad scientist in a lab. The photo of the fly at the top of this post is completely unretouched (except for the added copyright text). Can you believe how the crimson red and deep gold of the fly's body plays off of that leaf? Call me crazy, but I actually think it's pretty! Just be thankful that I spared you the photo of the house centipede and its many articulated legs in high-def. I loved it, but I know we must take these bug-celebrating measures in baby steps...

I can't help thinking that all of this intense studying of tiny creatures is some sort of lesson from one of Aesop's Fables--something to the tune of "Look closer at what you fear until you fear it no longer." Or: "Study what disgusts you until you find the beauty in it." Maybe it's a lesson for today's politicians? Kidding aside, while I was snapping these photos, I couldn't help thinking of a rather existential quote from author Toni Morrison: "Birth, life, and death--each took place on the hidden side of a leaf."

So, just for today, look closer. And then, edge closer still.

Food for Thought: Have you ever had a complete turn-around about something you used to despise? Are you able to see the beauty in any creatures that others think are ugly?

I am not exactly a "morning person" but I am absolutely a "breakfast person." Like Jerry Seinfeld, I could eat cereal for every meal, but usually I will expend slightly more effort to really kick off the morning flavorfully. (My current favorite is oatnut toast topped with chocolate hazelnut spread and fresh summer berries. Seriously, you must try this magical trio. I know it's not the healthiest, but it's in the running for Most Scrumptious!) This morning, however, while the scent of bread turning into toast wafted through the kitchen, I raised the window shade to see our gorgeously abundant Rose of Sharon hedge literally abuzz. The honeybees were out in full force, flitting in and out of the super-saturated pink blossoms. I hesitated--the toast smelled amazing and the fresh strawberries were calling my name--but I knew what I had to do. I headed out the door with my camera and my trusty, super-cheap macro lens, my favorite new toy.

The honeybees didn't seem to care that my breakfast was waiting for me inside. Clearly, they had their own agendas and they weren't going to grant me the favor of posing in the perfect posy so I could answer the call of my grumbling stomach. I set up shot after shot and waited for a bee to fly into the particular blossom I was focusing on.

No such luck. Either they chose blooms that were out of my frame, or they chose the least photogenic flowers that were dying on the vine. Sometimes, they'd meet me halfway and give me a rear view, possibly the equivalent of "mooning."

I have to admit: Those shots interested me, too. I hadn't realized, until I was three inches away from honeybees this morning, that their little ruffled backs tremble in excitement while they drink the pollen. I guess they really enjoy their breakfasts, too.

When I first headed outside, I had intended to snap a few photos of the bees for ten minutes, tops. Again, the bees had an altogether different agenda for me. An hour flew by, and 92 photos later, this little guy (or gal) appeared:

He stopped what he was doing, wiggling his antenna in my direction, as we seemed to study the "otherness" of each other. He posed quite patiently for six frames before buzzing off. (Thank you, kind sir!)

When I finally made it back inside to my (slightly stale) toast, I had a memory of many years ago as a child, watching a TV special with Jane Goodall and the wild chimpanzees. After years of research and preparation, she traveled to their jungle, nestled herself among the trees, and waited. And waited. And waited some more, until one fine day, the chimpanzees finally acknowledged her, cautiously crept close to her, and allowed her into their intensely private world. I am no Jane Goodall, but today, I received the reward of patiently putting myself on other creatures' agendas and learning what would happen. The busy bees taught me all about slowing down, and made me ask myself, "What's the rush?" As it turned out, breakfast could wait. There were other things to savor.

Your turn: Are you habitually a "busy bee" or do you regularly take time to smell the roses? What's the most recent thing in nature/wildlife that you've studied? Please share in the Comments section below (feel free to link to your photos or blogs). If you are reading this post via email subscription or mobile device, click on the title or go to www.JoyfullyGreen.com from a computer to see the comments and leave one of your own.

Reader's Note: I encourage you to read "What's Killing the Bees?" (from Treehugger.com via Time magazine) and "Keep Off The Grass: Experts Sound Off on the Dangers of Lawn Pesticides" (from me); both posts are linked below.